


Stay tuned! We'll be right back after these messages.

by Glowsquid



Series: Don't you know that the kids aren't alright? [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Breakfast, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Let Cal Kestis Say Fuck, Order 66 (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 15:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowsquid/pseuds/Glowsquid
Summary: It's hard enough to heal from the genocide of your people without the entire galaxy celebrating the event.Happy Empire Day.
Relationships: Cal Kestis & The Mantis Crew, Cere Junda & Cal Kestis
Series: Don't you know that the kids aren't alright? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213715
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Stay tuned! We'll be right back after these messages.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a part of a longer fic, which is coming soon. Should take anywhere between an hour, and um, 11 months. 
> 
> This piece is dedicated to my Cal Kestis stans in the sw whump server.

Cal’s terrible, horrible, no good very bad day begins when Greez turns the news on in the morning. 

That in itself isn't a terribly shocking occurrence. It was common for the crew of the Mantis to listen to the morning news broadcasts as they went about their various morning routines and then gathered for breakfast and caff in the common area. Cal’s smearing jam onto a slice of toasted bread, Cere’s stirring sugar into a mug of caff, and Greez is tidying, for no apparent reason. Merrin had taken BD-1 with her on a quick scouting trip to see if she could find any edible wild plants they could add to their ship’s store of provisions. 

By all accounts, today should have been a normal day. 

But Cal had forgotten the date. To be fair, he thinks Greez has as well. 

“... Extermination was necessary for the formation of the Galactic Empire,” a news anchor recites. “We have here the security footage from Emperor Palpatine’s office, and we can see with our own eyes top members of the Jedi Council, including Mace Windu himself, attempting to assassinate the Emperor, who was serving as Chancellor of the former Republic at the time. As further proof of the Jedi’s deranged treason, here we see Padawan Zett Jukassa making a brazen attack on Senator Bail Organa. Fortunately, the would-be assassin was stopped by stalwart members of the 501st legion.”

Cal’s mouth goes dry. He had been hungry a moment before but now nausea churns in his stomach. Zett had been his friend. The pair of them were nigh inseparable until they were taken by masters and began training separately. The last time they had talked had been only a week before his master was killed. 

Cere’s mug of caff drops from her hand and shatters on the floor. 

“Jrik, what motivation could a Jedi Padawan have for attacking a Senator?” 

The grainy camera footage vanishes and is replaced with two humans inside a sleek news studio, wearing crisp robes seated at a spotless table. 

“Well, Assawle, once the Jedi revealed their real motivation for fighting in the Clone War, it becomes clear the entire order must have been deeply, deeply deluded by their lust for power. Evidently, they were far gone enough to brainwash their young initiates into supporting their goals. It’s impossible to tell for how long their organization had been planning this coup, but it’s very possible that it was their goal since the conception of their religion.”

“Religion? More like a cult, if you ask me.” The other anchor quips.

Jirk chuckles, and the sound of it makes Cal feel even sicker. “You got that right. Well, we can all agree we have our boys in white to thank for keeping our galaxy safe from the violence and tyranny of the Jedi. I know I sleep better at night knowing that they’re well and gone.” 

“Well said, Jirk. And you know what I always say. A good Jedi is a dead Jedi.”

“Hey, that’s a good one! I’ll have to remember that. The parade here in the upper levels of Coruscant is expected to begin any minute now, so stay tuned, we’ll be back to report on the Empire Day festivities as they-”

“Well, that’s enough of that,” Greez almost shouts as he switches off the holo-screen. “Nothing interesting on this morning, no use burning the bulbs out if there’s nothing worth reporting. Don’t worry about the mug, Cere, we have plenty others.”

Any other day, Greez would absolutely want Cere and everyone else in the next 3 systems to worry about the mug. But today he busies himself with the broom and doesn’t comment on it again. 

Cal reminds himself to breathe. He looks at Cere, who’s gone almost as pale as he is and hasn’t yet stopped staring at the screen. 

“Cere?”

She doesn’t seem to hear him. 

“Cere!” He moves to stand between her and where the news used to be, and that seems to get her attention. Her eyes snap to his, as if suddenly awakening from a dream.

“Sorry, Cal. Are you okay?”

He nods. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He wants to call out her brazen lie for what it is, but doing so would make him a hypocrite, so he leaves their falsehoods hanging awkwardly in the air between them. 

“I… Greez, let me help you with that.” She turns around suddenly and busies herself with fetching a damp rag to wipe up the caff that was spilled on the floor. 

“No no, I said don’t worry about it. You just take it easy, Cere.” 

As if sitting around would bring the Jedi back. He knows Greez means well, but Cal isn't in the mood to deal with their captain’s fussing, so he turns on his heel and strides back to his cramped quarters, notions of breakfast entirely forgotten. 

Yes, today seems like an excellent day for staying in his room and shutting out the rest of the world. 

He pulls his headphones over his ears and turns the volume of his music up as high as it will go. Prauf liked to warn him he was going to go deaf that way, but Cal doesn’t care, and thinking of Prauf only hurts more. So he closes his eyes and tries very hard not to think of Prauf, or Zett, or Caleb, or his Master. He doesn’t think about the men with matching faces who had been his friends once, who managed to destroy everyone and everything he loved in one fell swoop. He doesn’t think about Cere in the common room, who seemed determined to pretend that everything was just fine. He doesn't think about the billions of beings who thought he had been brainwashed by a fucking cult.

The music is hard and fast and he focuses on it until it consumes him completely. He lets his upper body rock with the rhythm and empties his mind until there’s nothing left in his consciousness but sound.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for coming to my TED talk. And by TED talk I mean 900-some words of angst I pulled out of my ass when I was supposed to be doing my homework. 
> 
> ~~No, I didn't name my news anchors Jerk and Asshole. No, the fic title wasn't inspired by Wandavision, whatareyoutalkingabout~~


End file.
